Punished
by HardyBoyz4Eva
Summary: Phil is feeling unloved. How does Chris make it up to him? Chris/Phil. Please Review!


**Title:** Punished

**Rated:** M (Mature)

**Genre(s):** Romance/Humor

**Pair(s):** Chris/Phil

**Summary:** Phil is feeling unloved. How can Chris remedy that?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone.

**Warning: **Slash

**A/N:** I'm really trying to get all of my requests done, so if you have asked me for a story, I haven't forgotten about you! It may take me a little while, but I _will_ finish it. So… this one is for coleypoke22, who requested a Chris Jericho/CM Punk one-shot. I hope you like it!

**OOOO**

Phil smirked evilly as he held Chris' t-shirt, his _favorite_ t-shirt no less, in his hands. The black material now had a white stain on the front, and had shrunk three sizes. "Oh, Chrissy!"

"What is it this time, Phil?" And then Chris' blue eyes fell on his shirt, and they widened considerably. "What the hell? What is this… How did this… _Fuck_! You… You… You little _brat_!"

"Brat?" Phil's smirk melted into a sarcastic smile. "Is that really the best that you could do?"

"How about a slutty little brat that just cost his boyfriend fifty dollars, and effectively pissed him off for the rest of the day?" Chris hissed as his hand knotted in Punk's silky black tresses.

"And what do you intend to do about it?" Phil asked.

Chris knew that smirk, and shook his head. He wouldn't fall for Phil's old tricks. "Nothing."

Olive eyes widened. "_Nothing_?"

Chris released the hairs, before he patted his boy on the shoulder. "That's right. I'm going to do absolutely nothing. And you… are going to stay far away from the bleach."

Phil watched, wide-eyed, as his boyfriend rounded the corner. "Dammit."

Chris was about to climb into bed, when he removed a wet t-shirt out of the clean laundry basket. "Philly, dear… why are all of the clothes still wet?"

"Not all of the clothes." Phil clarified. "Just yours. I did mine earlier, and may have broken the dryer."

"Why the hell didn't you mention that?"

Phil shrugged, before he flashed Chris a wide smile. "We could just put 'em on the balcony. As long as that old bird doesn't come by and use them as her nest, they'll be fine."

Chris shook his head, unable to believe that his boyfriend had done this to his clothes. "Have you ruined these, just like my _favorite_ shirt?"

"You wound me, Chris!" Phil exclaimed. "I'm not totally incompetent -,"

"I never implied that you were incompetent."

But Phil just continued to rant. "The next thing you know, all of a sudden I won't be able to satisfy you in bed anymore. And if I can't even do the laundry, what use will I have? You'll just leave me behind!"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Are you PMSing? Seriously, you haven't had this kind of mood swing in _months_."

"You don't love me." Phil insisted.

"Now, c'mon Philly. You know that that's not true." Chris retorted.

"I feel so _unloved_." Phil continued, before he threw himself down face-first onto the bed.

Chris rolled his eyes, mumbling about how his boyfriend was being an extreme 'drama queen'. "Y'know what? I think that I want to head out for a drink. I'll be back later."

"Whatever…"

Finally, Phil made a last-ditch effort. He poured sparkling cider on Chris' white _cloth_ couch. If this didn't send Chris over the limit, he didn't know what would. The door opened, and Chris came inside. "Whoops!"

Phil chuckled as Chris let out a rather unmanly screech. "What the hell did you do?"

"Guess I had a little… accident." He poured more cider onto the couch. "Don't you want to… _punish_ me?"

"No, actually, I want to send you out at," he looked at his watch, "3:42 AM and make you buy me a new fucking couch, because you just ruined that one!"

Phil fumed. This wasn't right. He wanted Chris to fuck him, to teach him a lesson. It felt like an eternity since he had last been with the older man, and he wanted it _badly._ Why couldn't Chris get that through his thick skull? "Chrissy…"

"No buts, Phil. Get some clothes on, and head over to Ashley Furniture," Chris handed him a wad of cash out of his wallet, "and buy me a new fucking couch."

"B-But _Chrissy_," Phil whined, his olive eyes wide. "Don't you want me?"

"Right now, I want a _new fucking couch_!" Chris hissed, clearly exasperated.

Pissed now, Phil tore the cork out of the bottle and started to _douse_ the couch in the rest of the cider. It eagerly absorbed the dark red liquid. "What if I don't want to?"

Chris shook his head. "Now? You have no choice."

"Fine." Phil sighed. "Just let me get dressed, and I'll by your stupid fucking couch, okay? Are you happy now?" But Phil started to strip before he reached the bedroom, making it down to his briefs before he reached the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

"Fuck." Chris muttered. For the first time, _he_ was the one left wanting more.

When Phil didn't come out for over an hour, Chris knew that he wasn't dressing to go out and buy that couch like he had said. No… and for some reason, he had an odd suspicion that he knew just what it was that Phil was up to back there. He smirked a little at that. His baby-boy could be so predicatable. Yes, Chris was well-aware of the fact that they hadn't been intimate in almost a month. Work, travel, and numerous other obligations had made this almost impossible. And while Chris didn't let it phase him, Phil was ready to crawl out of his skin.

Of course, this… method of gaining his attention was totally new. Phil knew that such actions warrented punishment, but maybe that was his intention from the start. Maybe he blamed their current period of sexual inactivity on himself, and he wanted Chris to punish him for it. Chris shook his head, wondering how he couldn't have seen the signs before. He felt bad, because he had vowed to take care of Phil and had somehow missed this vital need. On the other hand, the excitement almost poured over within him. It wasn't often that Phil _asked_ to be punished…

Silently, he walked down the hall in the direction of their bedroom. He cracked the door, and in the dim lighting, he could see his baby-boy stretched out on the bed with a dildo slowly pumping in and out of his tight channel. The light reflected off of Phil in such a way that he seemed to _glisten_ with sweat, thick beads of precum oozing from the head of his fully erect member. Chris couldn't breathe. It seemed like he had forgotten just how beautiful his boy was in that small amount of time.

"Baby…" Chris trailed softly.

Olive eyes flickered open and settled on their mark. "Chrissy… _Please_…"

Chris didn't need any further invitation. Slipping out of his clothes, he climbed up onto the bed beside his baby. Weakly, Phil tossed the bottle of lube at his stomach. Chris smirked, before he popped the cap and poured a medium-sized drop onto his hand. Seeing as his boy didn't need to be prepped, he quickly slicked his member and reached for Phil's hand and eased the toy out of the warm channel. Quickly lining up with his entrance, he thrust in until he rested balls-deep.

He started a hard and punishing pace, not giving Phil any time to adjust to the difference of size between him and the toy. Phil whined, arching his back as Chris hammered against his prostate relentlessly. The end came far too soon, both tumbling over the edge together. Thick, white beads covered Phil's stomach and chest, and when Chris pulled out, the blond's essence slowly oozed from the abused hole. Chris felt his arousal start to blossom again at the sight. Sighing, he leaned forward and kissed his boy.

"I love you, Philly. Never doubt that." Chris said earnestly.

Phil kissed his cheek, before he snuggled down into his side. "I love you too."

**OOOO**

**A/N:** Please Review!


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